In the laws respecting oaths at the period of the Revolution, certain changes took place, which from their religions aspect demand our notice.

The new Oath of Allegiance prescribed by the Declaration of Rights differed from the old Oaths of Allegiance imposed by statute law. To make this change perfectly constitutional, and to secure entire uniformity in the expression of loyal obedience, it was necessary to pass an Act abolishing ancient forms, and determining the circumstances under which a new one should be enforced. Leave having been granted in the House of Commons upon the 25th of February to bring in such a measure, upon the 16th of March the Solicitor-General reported amendments made in the Bill, and upon the 18th of the same month the Bill passed the House. Being sent up to the Lords, it was read by them a second time only, attention becoming absorbed by another Bill for the same purpose, originating in their own House, and on the 25th sent down to the Commons, by whom it was immediately read, and committed on the 28th. The Journals of the two Houses for the month of April abound in notices of debates, amendments, protests, reports, and conferences in reference to this question. Its religious bearings were twofold.

The Bill first provided that the new oaths should be taken by all persons holding office in the Church of England and the two Universities. No one could sit on the Prelates’ bench, or perform the duties of a Diocesan; no one could enjoy a benefice, or minister in a parish church; no one could be the head of a House, or possess a fellowship at Oxford or Cambridge, who did not “sincerely promise and swear to bear true allegiance to their Majesties King William and Queen Mary.” Looking at the baronial and legislative character of Bishops; at the dependence of many Ecclesiastical preferments on the Crown; at the national character of the Universities; and at the relation of the whole body of the Established Clergy to the Government, there appears the same reason for enacting a declaration of loyalty from them as from officers in the army and navy. To have excepted the Church from the obligations of the oath, would have been to make an invidious distinction between classes of the community bound by manifold political ties, and it would have been liable to the interpretation that the Government, conscious of weakness, felt afraid of the Clergy. Besides, if there be any binding form in oaths—if they afford any security at all for the stability of a throne, they certainly needed, in a pre-eminent degree at that time, to be enforced upon all Ecclesiastical persons, when so many of them were known to be disaffected to the reigning Sovereigns. The difficulty expressed by disaffected Clergymen in reference to the new oaths rested mainly on two grounds. Those of them who had already sworn allegiance to King James could not reconcile it with their consciences to put aside those vows, and to adopt opposite ones. In this respect, however, their case was no worse than that of civilians and military men, though no appeals for their relief were ever urged. An officer of the Customs, or the captain of a regiment, might very well feel the same scruples as troubled the Rector of a parish, or the Dean of a cathedral; and if exceptions of this sort were once begun, where were they to end? What could not at the time fail to be noticed, and now must strike every reader, is, that the men who showed so much sensitiveness with respect to their former oaths, were, many of them, the very same persons, and all of them belonged to the same class, as those who had treated with contempt or indifference like difficulties on the part of Presbyterians at the time of the Restoration. Yet what was required now cannot be made to appear so harsh as what had been required before. An Episcopalian Clergyman had only to promise allegiance to the persons who occupied the throne, without expressing any abstract opinion on the subject; whereas, a Presbyterian Clergyman had not only been required to swear allegiance to Charles II., which he was willing to do, but had been also required to swear that his previous oath was unlawful; and to declare, moreover, that the doctrine of resisting a despotic king is a position to be held in abhorrence. An express denunciation of former oaths had been required at the Restoration; only a practical relinquishment of former oaths was required at the Revolution. The law of 1662 had told the Presbyterian he must denounce the doctrine of resistance—the law of 1689 did not tell the Episcopalian he must denounce the doctrine of the Divine right of Kings. At the earlier era a political dogma had been imposed as a requisite for clerical office; at the later era no political dogma was imposed at all. Conscience is sacred; yet whilst I give credit to Clergymen who scrupled to swear allegiance to the new dynasty, I cannot discover the reasonableness of their scruples. If any of them did not hold the Divine right of Kings, it is hard to discern any plausible ground for refusing to transfer allegiance according to the terms of the new oath; if they did hold the Divine right of Kings—and therefore preferred a Regency to a change in the succession, as was the case with Sancroft—still it appears that they might, consistently with their abstract principle, have sworn to obey a de facto potentate. At any rate, their difficulties were less than the difficulties of their Nonconforming brethren seven-and-twenty years before. Then High Churchmen treated mountains as molehills,—now they magnified molehills into mountains.

The second source of clerical resistance is found in the sacredness of clerical character, and the indelibility of clerical orders. Adherence to the supposed rights of the King in exile rarely existed, except in the case of High Churchmen. A belief of the Divine rights of princes entwined itself round a belief in the Divine right of priests. A notion that Monarchs should be independent of Parliaments, associated itself with a notion that Ministers of religion should be independent of human law.

Sovereigns could not be made and unmade by subjects, neither could Clergymen be made or unmade by States, therefore such a law as that now enacted became, in a spiritual point of view, futile, impertinent, even impious. A strange confusion of truth and error obtained throughout this reasoning of the Nonjurors. No doubt the Church, as a Divine community, is independent of human governments. The pastors and teachers are not the creatures of the Civil power, they are in the hands of Him who walks amidst the golden candlesticks. Of spiritual office and character the Civil power is not competent to denude any servant of Christ. But when chief Ministers of the Church are amongst chief officers of State, when Bishops are Peers, and Clergymen have legally-vested rights, the case is different. Church temporalities are from first to last the creations of secular government; and the authority which gives can take away. Parliament had no business to alter the religious position of Ministers, but it had a right to impose conditions, for its own safety, upon those who added to the character of Ministers that of political legislators and officers of a nationally-endowed Church. Erastianism had been predominant under Charles II. It had lingered under James II. It was to be revived and to be manifested, in some respects more distinctly than ever, under William III.; but, at the Revolution, many who had been Erastian enough through the previous quarter of a century, began to be restless and to sigh for emancipation. Circumstances made them voluntaries in practice, although circumstances did not make them voluntaries in principle. As time rolled on, the doctrine of the Church’s independence came more distinctly within view, notwithstanding their blindness to its consequences; and the assertion of that independency increased in earnestness after the rupture, of which I shall have much to say.

A further religious complication of the measure under review arose in connection with its first appearance in the House of Commons, and was renewed in the course of its progress through the House of Lords. It requires attention. Upon the 25th of February, the day when leave was given to bring in the Bill for changing the oath, leave was also given to bring in a Bill for repealing the Corporation Act. The Corporation Act, the reader will remember, enjoined the repudiation of the doctrine of resistance, the renunciation of the Solemn League and Covenant, and the receiving of the Lord’s Supper, as a qualification for municipal office. It had been a blow aimed at Nonconformists; now that the justice of affording them some relief was acknowledged by the Whig party, it seemed only consistent that this statute should be extinguished. In a debate which arose at the time when the two Bills originated, one member maintained that the Corporation Act “had as much intrinsic iniquity as any Act whatsoever,” and that it profaned the Sacrament; another—who said he had been educated for the Church, and would live and die in it—advocated the repeal of the Act; but a third contended for the continuance of conformity as essential to the holding of a public trust, and proposed that the oath of non-resistance, instead of being taken away, should be explained. All this ended in nothing. Soon after the Bill was brought in, it was, through party complications, set aside on a question of adjournment;[117] and the inconsistency arose of a Government, plainly based upon Revolution, and therefore upon resistance, being left to enforce a principle destructive of its own authority; the inconsistency, moreover, was associated with injustice and ingratitude towards a party zealous in its support. High Church Tories of course wished to preserve the Corporation Act, and contributed to its preservation; Low Church Whigs, though willing to relieve Nonconformists, still wished to keep Nonconformity in check, and manifested no zeal for the removal of an engine of intolerance, which lasted down even to our own times.

Efforts in favour of Nonconformists having thus failed in the Lower House, like movements were uselessly made in the Upper. The King, in a speech delivered on the 16th of March, emphatically recommended Parliament to provide against Papists, so as to “leave room for the admission of all Protestants that are willing and able to serve.”[118] In these words he showed his desire for the alteration of the Test Act. The Test Act had been passed to exclude Papists from holding civil office; and, zealous for the accomplishment of that end, Nonconformists had supported it at the sacrifice of their own interests. There were members in the House of Lords prepared to carry out the King’s wishes. They desired to render all Protestant citizens eligible to serve the State; during the progress of the Allegiance Bill, they supported the introduction of a clause for abolishing the sacramental test. But the Tory Lords were too numerous to allow of its being passed; and some Whig Peers, including the puritan Lord Wharton, recorded a protest against the rejection of the clause. They protested for these reasons—Because a hearty alliance amongst Protestants was a greater security than any test: because the obligation to receive the Sacrament operated against Protestants rather than Papists: because it prevented a thorough Protestant union: and because, what was not required of members of Parliament, ought not to be required of candidates for office. Not discouraged by defeat, one of the Lords proposed another clause, the object of which was to render the celebration of the Lord’s Supper in a Nonconformist place of worship legally equivalent to its celebration in a parish church. This, like the former attempt, failed; and again we find a protest recorded in the Journals, Lord Wharton being again among the protesters. In this protest they amplify what they had said before, and introduce this additional reason—that His Majesty had expressed an earnest desire for the liberty of all his Protestant subjects, and that divers Bishops had professed the same. The majority of the Lords, in the rejection of clauses for the partial repeal of the Test Act, proceeded on the same line with the majority of the Commons, in getting rid of the repeal of the Corporation Act.[119] But another wish rose in the King’s mind, which received support from a majority in the Upper House. It is very well known that he desired to treat the Clergy in general with great lenience, and to make as much allowance as possible for nonjuring scruples. By conceding so much to the High Church party, he aimed at reconciling them to those concessions which, on the other side, he longed to see granted to Nonconformists. He could not secure the latter concessions, but he easily secured the former. The policy of the Lords, both Whig and Tory, both Low Church and High Church, was to discountenance Nonconformity, and to maintain the Episcopalian Establishment; the policy of the High Church Peers was to support those Clergymen with whom they sympathized in Ecclesiastical views, and to relieve them from the pressure of the new oaths; and the policy of the Whig Low Church Peers was to conciliate the same party as much as possible. Even Burnet, just exalted to the Bench, took part in a debate before his consecration, advocating a mild arrangement of the matter in reference to his scrupulous brethren.[120] It followed that the Bill left the Lords with a provision allowing every beneficed divine to continue in his benefice without taking the oath, unless the Government saw reason for putting his loyalty to the test. Upon this point the temper of the Lower House differed from that of the Upper. They inserted in the Bill a clause rendering it absolutely incumbent on every one holding preferment to take the oath by the 1st of August, 1689, under pain of immediate suspension—by the end of six months afterwards, upon pain of final deprivation.[121] With that claim embodied in it, the Bill went back to the Lords. They fought for their own gentler method. Conferences were held between the Houses: compromises were suggested: reports were made: debates were renewed; but the Lords could not stand against the Commons, and the stringent method insisted upon by the latter became the law of the land.

The Whig majority in the House of Commons were as zealous as the Tory majority in the House of Lords in maintaining the Church of England, but they were utterly averse to the secular and ecclesiastical politics of that party, which the project of William, supported by the Peers, sought to win over by conciliation. They could not forget the support that party had rendered to the Stuart despotism, their opposition to the Exclusion Bill, their intolerant despotism, and their steady opposition to the Whig Commons. They could not favour High Church views, they had no notion of the Church being independent of the State. If the Clergy received honours and emoluments from the Civil power, then to the Civil power they must, like other subjects, yield obedience. The spirit of the House was Erastian; and no doubt passion mingled with principle—resentment with the maintenance of supremacy.

The Oaths of Allegiance had at an early period been readily taken by the Commons, only two of them refusing to swear. In the other House a vast majority of the lay and spiritual Lords had complied with the law, but certain Bishops had been incapacitated, or were reluctant in compliance; others altogether refused to submit to authority. In the Journal of the Lords for the 18th of March, amongst notices of absence, we find the Bishop of Coventry and Lichfield described as “ill of the strangury and the stone;” the Bishop of Worcester as “weak in body,” and very aged; and the Bishop of St. David’s as writing a letter of excuse, not at all satisfactory. This last Prelate, who had for some time been mistrusted by his brethren, consulted Sir John Reresby, who told him to fall back on his own conscience. The next day the Bishop took the oath.[122] But the Primate Sancroft, Lake of Chichester, Turner of Ely, Lloyd of Norwich, Ken of Bath and Wells, Frampton of Gloucester, White of Peterborough, and Thomas of Worcester, steadily refused, and came forward as vanguard to that body of which we shall have more to say hereafter.

The oath was taken by the Clergy in various ways. Some, who objected to its being imposed, felt they could adopt it conscientiously. Some questioned the lawfulness of it, and did not blame the Nonjurors, but themselves took the benefit of the doubt. Some swore with a certain reserve, expressing the sense in which they explained the obligation with “an implicit relaxation” of the meaning of the words. Others, at a loss to determine the point, yielded to the opinions of lawyers and divines.[123]

The Coronation Oath came under consideration at the same time as the Oath of Allegiance, and, like it, occasioned great discussion. The oath pledged the Sovereign to preserve the Church “as it is now established by law;” and the Commons were thereby led to inquire into the exact meaning of the words, whether they affected in any way the question of introducing changes, such as many most earnestly desired. Some, who longed for an alteration in the formularies, were anxious that, instead of the words “Church as it is now established by law,” should be the words, “Church as it is, or shall be, established by law,” thus expressly providing for new arrangements. It was contended that the Church doors ought to be made wider, that it might be easily done, and that in anticipation of this, the proposed alteration in the oath should be accomplished. Before—some argued—it did not much matter how the Coronation Oath ran, but it did now that a King occupied the throne, who might say, “I do not understand what is meant by law.” They urged no wish for any change in doctrines, but only for change in ceremonies, and they felt unwilling that the Coronation Oath should preclude the latter. Moreover, they desired to prevent any taunt from foreign Protestants of the following kind—“Your Parliament has limited you to a Church unalterable, and will let in nobody.” Some of those who objected to the additional words replied, that their omission would not be any bar to reform; that Parliament had power to alter laws; that, consistently with the maintenance of Protestant doctrine, there might be the relaxation of certain forms; that essentials being preserved, non-essentials could be removed; and that tender consciences could be brought in at a door without pulling down the rafters to let them through the roof. Though a rider to the effect, that no clause in the Act should prevent the Sovereign from giving assent to a Bill for Church Reform was not formally adopted, yet it was at length clearly understood that the oath did not fetter the Sovereign in any act of legislative concurrence, but only bound him in his executive capacity; the original words therefore were sanctioned by a majority of 188 against 149.[124]

The Coronation, for which this oath prepared, took place on the 11th of April, when both political parties in unequal proportions participated in the solemnities. Tory and Jacobite Lords, who had voted for a Regency, increased the magnificence—one carrying the crown of the King, another the crown of the Queen, and a third the sword of Justice; whilst a fourth rode up the middle of Westminster Hall, as champion for William and Mary against all comers. Noble damsels of both classes appeared in large numbers and dazzling splendour to swell the retinue, or to watch the movements of the Regnant Queen; and amongst them walked the pretty little Lady Henrietta, daughter of the Earl of Rochester, who had persistently opposed the idea that the throne was vacated by the departure of James. The nonjuring Prelates would take no part in the ceremonies; the absence of the Primate was a serious circumstance, but, by a clause in the Coronation Act, the King had authority to chose some other Bishop for the principal ceremony of the day. Accordingly he chose Compton, Bishop of London, to place the crown upon his head. This Low Churchman and staunch Revolutionist was accompanied by Prelates of different characters: Lloyd of St. Asaph, one of the seven who had been sent to the Tower, walked on the one hand, holding the paten; Sprat of Rochester, who had been a member of the High Commission, walked on the other, carrying the chalice; and Burnet of Salisbury ascended the pulpit to deliver a sermon, of which the peroration, imploring the blessing of Heaven on the King and Queen in this life, and the bestowment upon them in the life to come of crowns more enduring than those on the altar, excited a hum of applause from the Commons, who were seated behind it. For the first time the Coronation occurred neither on a Sunday nor a holiday; and for the first time really in accordance with a precedent set at Cromwell’s installation, a Bible was presented to the Sovereigns as “the most valuable thing that this world contains;” and it would appear that the identical volume still exists, for one of the treasures of the Royal Library at the Hague is a Bible, inscribed with these words: “This Book was given the King and I at our Coronation. Marie R.” The event was celebrated in the provinces; garlands adorned with oranges were carried about the streets of country towns, amidst the beating of drums, the pealing of bells, and the huzzas of the people, followed at night by the blazing of bonfires.[125]

As the great Revolution under William I. was perfected by the Coronation at Westminster on Christmas-day, 1066, so the great Revolution under William III. was perfected by the Coronation in the same place on the 11th of April, 1689. In both cases certain religious rites were necessary to the completeness of the new Monarch’s inauguration, but in both cases they were celebrated only as a solemn ratification of a choice made by the national voice. It is curious to notice, that in addition to the coincidence of names in the case of the authors of the two most momentous revolutionary successions to the English crown, there is a further coincidence: each arrived on the southern shores of England as an invader, and then became the choice of the people; and neither of them rested on the right of conquest as the basis of power.

At the time when the Allegiance and Coronation Oaths were under discussion, two other important subjects, immediately connected with Ecclesiastical History, occupied Parliamentary attention. The one was the widening of admission into the Church, the other was the concession to Dissenters of liberty to worship according to conviction: both measures had been repeatedly taken up and repeatedly laid down during the reign of Charles II.

The steps in reference to Comprehension may be conveniently considered first.

The Primate Sancroft, it is alleged,[126] looked favourably in that direction, amidst the excitement to liberal feeling, which sprung up on the eve of the Revolution: certainly at the beginning of the year 1689, Lloyd, the Bishop of St. Asaph, Tillotson, Dean of Canterbury, Sharp, Dean of Norwich, and Dr. Tenison, met at the house of Stillingfleet, Dean of St. Paul’s, as we are informed by Patrick, Prebendary of Westminster—who was present on the occasion—to consult about such concessions as might bring in Dissenters to communion, “for which,” Patrick says, “the Bishop of St. Asaph told us, he had the Archbishop of Canterbury’s leave. We agreed that a Bill should be prepared, to be offered by the Bishops, and we drew up the matter of it in ten or eleven heads.”[127] Coincident with the time when such proposals were sufficiently matured to be laid before Parliament, but not coincident with the particular purpose and method which these and other Divines had in view, was the publication of a draft, by some irresponsible person, for the universal accommodation of Dissenters, and the bringing of all parties into communion with the Established Church. This scheme, which bore the title of an amicable reconciliation, soon dropped into the limbo of quixotic plans, but it made some noise at the time, and is sufficiently curious to be worth a few words.

Amidst existing religious differences the principle is laid down that as there is one Catholic Church under Christ, so there must be many local Churches framed after some type of political organization. The Church of England is of the latter kind, placed under the government of King and Bishops. This Church requires a change. It wants comprehensiveness. Now, a distinction exists between tolerable and intolerable religions. Intolerable religions are set aside, but all tolerable religions, it is affirmed, ought not only to be legalized, but incorporated in the Establishment. Bishops should be King’s officers, to act circa sacra; and those now called Dissenters should be eligible for such an office, with power to supervise all parties, in order to the keeping of them in harmony with their own principles, so as not to disturb the peace of others.[128] This scheme included a provision that Ecclesiastical laws should be enacted by a Convocation, including non-episcopal members, or by the two Houses of Parliament.

A Bill “for uniting their Majesties’ Protestant subjects” was introduced in the House of Lords by the Earl of Nottingham on the 11th of March, and that day received its first reading. Upon the 14th it was read a second time and committed; and at the same sitting there was introduced by the same nobleman, and entrusted to the same Committee, another Bill, entitled “An Act for exempting their Majesties’ Protestant subjects, dissenting from the Church of England, from the penalties of certain laws.” Two measures, intimately connected with each other, and embodying opinions and wishes long cherished, were thus launched side by side, destined to meet different fates. Debated by the Lords with considerable sharpness, the Bill for uniting Protestants was narrowly watched by people outside, of different sentiments; and when no regular system existed for reporting speeches, fragments of senatorial oratory were casually picked up and preserved from oblivion by diarists and others; a person who looked at the subject from a dissenting point of view thus recorded what he learnt:

The Bill was thought by some not “large enough to comprehend the sober sort of Dissenters, for it did not grant to them some of the great points they had always and still did insist upon; and if it were thought the true interest of the Church and State to comprehend them, they must enlarge that Bill.”

The Bishop of Lincoln considered ordination by Presbyters to be good and sufficient, and in order to the taking of them in, it was not necessary there should be the imposition of Episcopal hands.

The Marquis of Winchester, fervent for Comprehension, as conducive to the interest of the Church, was unconcerned for the Bill of Indulgence, since “that would but nourish Church snakes and vipers in the bosom of the Church.”[129]

Early in the month of April we find the Lords busy with the Comprehension Bill. Upon the 4th, they were engaged upon the question, “Whether to agree with the Committee in leaving out the clause about the indifferency of the posture at the receiving the Sacrament?” The votes being equal, the Journal records, “Then, according to the ancient rule in the like case, semper præsumitur pro negante,” that is to say, the question as to leaving out the clause was decided in the negative, and therefore the clause remained. “There was a proviso likewise in the Bill for dispensing with kneeling at the Sacrament and being baptized with the sign of the cross, to such as, after conference on those heads, should solemnly protest they were not satisfied as to the lawfulness of them. That concerning kneeling occasioned a vehement debate; for the posture being the chief exception that the Dissenters had, the giving up this was thought to be the opening a way for them to come into employments. Yet it was carried in the House of Lords, and I declared myself zealous for it. For since it was acknowledged that the posture was not essential in itself, and that scruples, how ill grounded soever, were raised upon it, it seemed reasonable to leave the matter as indifferent in its practice, as it was in its nature.”[130]

On the next day another debate rose on an important point. It was proposed that a Commission should be appointed, including laymen as well as clergymen, to prepare some plan for healing divisions, correcting errors, and supplying defects in the constitution of the Church. Burnet, adopting the questionable policy of striving to please opponents, and bring them to adopt a comprehensive scheme by humouring their prejudice—a policy of which he afterwards repented—argued against the proposed Commission, and upon the question being put, strangely enough, there was again an equality of votes. The same rule as before was followed, and a negative being put on the proposition, the Marquis of Winchester and the Lords Mordaunt and Lovelace entered their protest against it as contrary to the constitution, inconsistent with Protestantism, inexpedient as to the end proposed, likely to create jealousies, to raise objections, and to countenance the dangerous position that the laity were not a part of the Church. The Earl of Stamford added a distinct protest, on the further ground, that to refuse laymen a place in such a Commission was opposed to statutes of Parliament in the reigns of Henry VIII. and Edward VI., which empowered a mixed Commission to revise the Canon law.

The Comprehension Bill, with these modifications, passed the House of Lords on the 8th of April, and was sent down to the House of Commons.[131]

Strange again—the fact has been overlooked by our principal modern historians—before the Lords’ Bill reached the Commons, the Commons were engaged upon a Comprehension Bill of their own, and upon a Toleration Bill likewise. The day which saw the Lords reading the former of these for the third time, saw the Commons also reading a similar one of their own for the first time, and granting leave to bring in another Bill, as the phrase went, for “easing of Protestant Dissenters.”

But the party in the Commons earnest for Comprehension, had to row against wind and tide. One member desired the new Bill might be adjourned for a fortnight; another wished to put it off till Domesday. Old Colonel Birch impugned the motives of those who opposed the measure by mentioning the names of two members in the last Long Parliament, who had objected to a similar proposal, and who proved afterwards to be Papists in disguise.[132]

Whilst the two Bills for Comprehension lay upon the Commons’ table, the Commons concurred with the House of Lords in an address expressing gratitude for His Majesty’s repeated assurances to maintain the Church of England, and praying that he would continue his care for the preservation of the same; and that, according to ancient practice, he would issue writs as soon as convenient for calling a Convocation of the Clergy, to be advised with in Ecclesiastical matters. “It is our intention,” they add, “forthwith to proceed to the consideration of giving ease to Protestant Dissenters.”[133] The reference here is to what is called the Toleration Bill.

By the Parliamentary address to the King, requesting him to summon Convocation for advice in Ecclesiastical matters, the Lords and Commons foreclosed the possibility of doing any more at present in reference to Comprehension. The two Bills on the subject were shelved, and debates on the point dropped in both Houses.[134]

At whose door lay the responsibility of defeating this particular attempt at the solution of a long-agitated question? The responsibility must be divided. It is difficult to get at a thorough knowledge of the views and aims of different parties interested in the subject. The spirit of intrigue, a habit of insincerity, and an employment of double-dealing, which cast such thick clouds around what was in many respects a “glorious Revolution,” influenced the minds of those who took part in the proceedings. Credit may be given to such men as Compton, Burnet, and others, for an honest intention to promote union; but I am at a loss to understand the Earl of Nottingham,[135] who introduced the Bill to the Lords, and who, being a High Churchman, must, one would suppose, have been inimical to at least some of its provisions. Still more difficult is it to understand the conduct of certain nonjuring Bishops, who, before they withdrew from the House, moved in favour of a comprehension, as well as the connivance of Sancroft, in allowing his name to be mentioned in connection with it. Reresby says some of the Prelates who supported the Bill did so more from fear than inclination;[136] and Burnet declares, “those who had moved for this Bill, and afterwards brought it into the House, acted a very disingenuous part; for while they studied to recommend themselves by this show of moderation, they set on their friends to oppose it; and such as were very sincerely and cordially for it, were represented as the enemies of the Church, who intended to subvert it.”[137]

As to the Nonjurors, it was believed at the time that they would not have been dissatisfied if any innovation upon forms, or any encroachment on clerical authority, had furnished a pretext for dividing the Church. But this belief was indignantly denounced afterwards as utterly false by one of the Nonjurors.[138] The whole atmosphere seems to have been laden with duplicity; and when the measure came down to the Lower House, with the apparent sanction of the Upper, there is reason to believe that if not the parents, yet the nurses and sponsors of the Bill had no objection to have the child perish in its cradle. Some, charged with this kind of infidelity, excused themselves on the ground of what they called the manifest partiality shown by certain of the Court Lords to the Dissenters.[139]

The objections offered by some of the Lords related to the details, not to the principle of the Bill, and no formal opposition seems to have been made to it by the Commons. They had appeared at first friendly enough to the general measure, and when they abandoned it, they did so under cover of desiring a meeting of Convocation, which might efficiently deal with the subject. The hapless infant died, not from violence, but neglect; not through blows dealt by an open enemy, but from want of nursing on the part of those pledged to cherish it.

The treachery, or apathy, of the Commons can be accounted for when we remember the character of the House and the circumstances of the times: as we have seen, but few Nonconformists—not more than twenty or thirty Presbyterians—could be counted among the members. The vast majority were Churchmen—some, Tory Churchmen, looking with a sinister eye upon the whole affair; some, Whig Churchmen, liberal in a limited degree, but opposed to the principle of Dissent: they cared much more for the Episcopalian Establishment than for what was called the Protestant Religion; they had little or no sympathy with the religious sentiments of the Nonconformists; they were unable to enter into their scruples; they were afraid that concession might endanger their own community; and they looked with apprehension upon the nonjuring movement. Much mischief was foreboded from that quarter, should such alterations be made as would countenance the idea that the Establishment under William and Mary was giving up its Episcopalian distinctions. Such an idea would strengthen the counter schism; for the Nonjurors might be expected to make capital out of the circumstance, and claim no small honour for maintaining Episcopalianism in its integrity. Another circumstance doubtless contributed to the turn affairs took in the Lower House.

Dissenters were not of one mind. Philip Henry earnestly desired Comprehension, “for never,” says his son, “was any more averse to that which looked like a separation than he was, if he could possibly have helped it—salvâ conscientiâ. His prayers were constant, and his endeavours, as he had opportunity, that there might be some healing methods found out and agreed upon.”[140] It would also have delighted Richard Baxter in his last days to see the door opened as wide as he had long before desired it should be. Bates would have been much pleased. The same may be said of Howe. But many were of a different mind.[141] The Nonconformist advocates of Comprehension belonged chiefly to the Presbyterian Church. Almost all Independents and Baptists felt it impossible for any alterations to be made such as could allow of their becoming parochial incumbents. More than a few had long been voluntaries, numbers were beginning to look in a direction opposite to that of an Establishment.[142] Selfishness has been assigned as a motive. “Some few pastors of wealthy congregations might be tempted to desire a continuance of the distance between Dissenters and Churchmen.” Yet Churchmen entertained “more charitable thoughts of sincere Dissenters.” The balance of temporal advantages certainly inclined on the side of a nationally-endowed Church, rich in tithes and other revenues, richer still in rank and prestige. However, it is unfair to suppose that, except in very rare instances indeed, an eye to income retained men in Nonconformist positions. Beyond all doubt, had Dissenting ministers been generally zealous in supporting the measure, they would have been charged by their neighbours with looking after the loaves and fishes. Where, however, no love of this world influenced the decision, the decision might be influenced by prejudice and suspicion; for persons must have been more or less than human, who, after such treatment as they had received for thirty years, could be free from all passionate emotion in estimating the conduct of those who had been either bitter persecutors or unconcerned witnesses of wrong. The motives of Churchmen at the Revolution would not always be fairly weighed by Dissenters. Suspicion, where it could not be justified, may still be condoned, looking at the antecedents of the case; and where there was not sufficient ground for imputing dishonourable motives to Churchmen, there might be enough to lead Nonconformists to suspect, that no warm welcome would be afforded them within the Establishment, even should the iron gates unfold. When reports of Comprehension were rife at an earlier period, an old story had been told to this effect: Sancho the Third, King of Spain, put aside his brother’s children that he might ascend the throne. A lady who was the representative and heir of the dispossessed line of Princes married the Duke of Medina Celi, who assumed the rights of his wife. He and his descendants accordingly presented a petition to the Sovereign that he would restore the crown—a petition to which he gave the reply, “No es lugar,” “There is no room.” This story had been applied by Presbyterians to the abeyance in which their claims to Church readmission had been held for more than a quarter of a century. “So our just liberty is talked of,” says Newcome, of Manchester, “by fits in course; and in course doft off with No es lugar, There is no room.”[143] It was thought the story remained as applicable after the Revolution as before.

This fact should be remembered. Comprehension became to all parties more and more difficult, and to some parties less and less desirable, as time rolled on. However hard it might be to effect a reconciliation, looking at the temper of Churchmen in 1662, it became harder in 1689, looking at the position of Dissenters. They had increased in numbers, had formed themselves into distinct Churches, had obtained their own ordained ministers, and had begun to create an ecclesiastical history, and to cherish in their separate capacity something of an esprit de corps. The opportunity of reclaiming the wanderers, once possessed by the Church party, had slipped away beyond recall. Overtures, which would have been eagerly grasped before, were coldly looked at now.[144]

The history of the measures for easing or indulging Dissenters presents a marked contrast to the history of the measure for uniting them to the Establishment. The Bill ordered on the 8th of April by the House of Commons to be drawn up for the former purpose, was read on the 15th. The Bill from the Lords’ House, where it had smoothly passed, was received on the 18th, and first read on the 20th of the same month. Both Bills were committed on the 15th of May. What little of the debate has been preserved shows it to have been brief, desultory, and superficial—not dealing with any great principles, but only discussing details, with an outburst now and then of ill-temper. One speaker would not give indulgence to Quakers, because they would not take an oath. Another identified them with Penn, and looked upon them as Papists in disguise. Yet all the speakers supported more or less the principle of the Bill, although some were of opinion that it should be adopted as an experiment for seven years.[145] It speedily passed without any such limitation, and received the Royal assent on the 24th of May.[146]